Captive Memories
by xadie
Summary: Set before Prisoner of Azkaban. Bellatrix Lestrange and Sirius Black take whatever chances they can to hold on to happy memories. The dementors make them remember nothing but pain. Everyone misbehaves with everyone else, slash ensues.
1. Default Chapter

Captive Memories 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters (except for any original ones!), they all belong to JKR etc. I'm just playing with them for a while. Any changes to timescale or character that may annoy purists out there are done for the good of the story.

Please give me feedback! I can't write without it!

Chapter One

_It's Walpurgis Night tonight. I read the stars, and they told me what it means. So good, to feel myself ragged and shivering on the hard dirt floor. To look with my own eyes at the silver puncture marks in the sky and know what I am. The dementors withdraw at this time every evening, to seek some secret ritual of their own, and at last, for an hour, my mind is my own. This is the only chance I have to hold on to my true self, to keep myself as sane as I can. And so the familiar ritual begins – searching for those increasingly elusive memories, the happy times that are my only tenuous link to normality. _

"Bellatrix!" I turned at the smooth and warmly familiar voice, my black silk robe swishing pleasantly around my ankles. Skipping forward a few steps, scornful of the children around me, I was swept up in the arms of my Lucius. His soft blonde hair tickled my nose as we whirled around, laughing, on the busy platform. "Come on!" He took my hand and we sauntered to the front of the train. "Out!" First Years scattered at his command as we took the first class carriage, propping our legs up comfortably on the cushioned seats.

"And how was the hunt, my darling?" I asked him once we were settled. He grimaced, his lower lip jutting out like a little boy's.

"Terrible. Two veelas, a vampire and a unicorn." He made a dismissive motion with his hand. "Hardly worth the trip. I've told Father that I shan't bother going next time he goes to Russia. And the food – unutterably awful!" He shuddered and so did I, to think of him suffering so.

"And to think, they took you away from me for three whole months, just for that!" Suddenly a blonde head appeared at the window, and my precious little sister Narcissa opened the door, all bluster and bravado.

"They didn't believe it that I was your sister and so I said to them that I was and I could prove it so here I am." Breathless, she watched us. How glamorous we must have looked, curled up together, my black hair mingled with his blonde.

"Come in, my angel, and shut the door." Curious eyes peered around the corner of the glass partition at us, but I gave them a glance to whither, and they disappeared noisily. I gathered my sister onto my lap, although she is much too old for such coddling, and stroked her fair hair, running its smoothness between my fingers. "Who did not believe you, my pet? We shall turn them all into toads, won't we, Lucius?"

"Undoubtedly. Hello, Narcissa." Lucius smiled distantly and went back to looking out of the window. He never liked to share me with my sister.

"I was talking to a girl called Celia Macdonald, and this boy called Gilderoy Lockhart came barging in and took up all the space! I said that I was hardly used to such manners." Narcissa picked a few flecks of fluff from her taffeta robe and set her head at a haughty angle. "He said who did I think I was, the Queen? And I said I was Narcissa Black and my sister was a sixth-year prefect. Then he said I couldn't be a Black, because all of us have black hair. How stupid can you be? Everyone knows that Andromeda's hair is just dark brown, not black at all!"

"Lockhart, Macdonald… Not any of the families… Probably just mudbloods who think they're better than they are." Lucius turned to look at Narcissa; giving her one of those smiles I loved so much, a smile that meant cruelty and fun all at once. "Well you've said your piece, Narcissa, and now its time for you to run along. Your sister and I have a lot of catching up to do." He shot me a glance full of meaning, and I shooed her off my lap.

"Lucius is right, darling. Best go and find some people to talk to that are more of your own class. Regulus is on the train somewhere, go and find him!" She paused in front of the carriage door for a moment, and looked squarely at Lucius.

"Are you and my sister in love?" Lucius sighed and shook his head.

"No. But neither of us know why."

_The sickening sound of dragging robes comes to my ears and I tense, ready for the bitter cold those damned creatures bring with them. I try to hold on to the train, to Narcissa or Lucius, but its impossible. Instead horrible, painful memories pull me downward, until darkness swallows me once more._

I paused at the bedchamber door, surprised to hear voices. The eve of my sister's wedding, and I had expected to find Lucius alone. Instead I heard the quiet rise and fall of conversation. I thought briefly about opening the door, but changed my mind and slipped into the adjoining chamber instead. Opening one of the many secret passages that worm their way through our castle, I stepped into the welcoming blackness and positioned myself at an eyehole.

Lucius was sitting on a low stool in front of the fire. Behind him, spare and slender with the grace that he had only lately learnt, stood Severus Snape. I watched, my stomach in knots, as Severus brushed the long, soft fall of Lucius' hair, lifting it lock by lock to run the brush gently from the scalp to the ends. I had thought to be the one to do that for him, I had expected to feel those hairs brush my naked skin in return.

"So, you are getting married." Severus said softly, wistfulness evident in his tone. Lucius chuckled softly, his face hidden from me.

"Yes. Narcissa will make me very happy." One hand appeared on his shoulder, the silver of the family seal glinting in the firelight. Severus took it, linking his fingers, as he continued to brush.

"Are you sure of that?" Severus said, almost under his breath.

"She will make me happy by giving me children. Nothing more, Severus." My Lucius turned and looked up at him, still holding his hand. His thumb was drawing circles on Severus' palm. Severus pulled away, putting the brush down carefully on the table.

"You know, much of the time, I hate you." Severus said almost conversationally.

"You love me." Lucius rose and walked up close to the younger man.

"I love you." Severus acquiesced, spinning to face Lucius, the top of his legs resting against the lip of the table. His face was drawn and tired. "But you don't love me."

"It's never been about love." Lucius traced the high cheekbone with the back of his fingers, brushed a lock of black hair back. "I've never lied to you." Severus seemed to melt into his touch. I knew the tenderness of those fingers, almost felt their soft touch on my own cheek. "It's about power." Suddenly he grasped Severus' throat, pushing him uncomfortably back against the table. "I own you, Severus."

"Yes." Severus hissed, eyes wide with fear and something else. Suddenly Lucius slid his hand around the back of Severus' neck and pulled him forward into a crushing kiss. I watched no longer, but ran back to the safety of my own husband's bed, reminding myself over and over that this was what I had chosen.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_I come to, facing the window. The night air calls to me, and the temptation to transform myself is almost unbearable. I must wait, and bide my time. Sirius Black is too clever for them. They won't catch me, and when I escape, it will be forever._

The great hall was warm and welcoming as I hurried to meet my three best friends. Third year at last, and another chance to try out for the quidditch team. I had been practicing all summer, and was determined that the spare chaser position would be mine. I had so many dreams that year – all fresh and new and exciting.

"Sirius!" A chorus of hoots and cheers went up from the third years at the Gryffindor table. James stood and made an exaggerated bow as he ushered me to the place next to him. I felt my heart swell with happiness at the high spirits of my friends.

"And pray tell us mere mortals," Peter began with mock pomposity, "why the train is not good enough for you?" I grinned, and pointed to my brother, looking small and scared at the end of the sorting hat queue.

"My shameful little toad of a brother." I affected a baby voice. " Mummy couldn't bear to send ickle baby Regulus on the train all by his lonesome." I gave my most ravishing grin to Clarity Jakes, who I noticed was staring over from the Ravenclaw table. She rolled her beautiful brown eyes and turned to listen to Andromeda. "So, she decided at the last minute to give us a lift here."

"_You_ came by yourself in first year." James pointed out.

"Hmm, but Mother has known, since I was very small, that I find her appalling." I ruffled James' hair affectionately.

"Hey! I just made that sit the way I wanted it too!" James exclaimed, and set to combing his fingers through it again, seemingly at random.

"On the other hand," I continued to Peter, "Regulus is a nasty little tattle tale with no morals whatsoever. They adore each other." Peter and James laughed obligingly. "Where's Remus?" I cast about the hall, but couldn't see him anywhere.

"Gosh, Sirius, you go away for a few months, you forget everything!" Peter leant across the table just as Dumbledore got up to speak. "Its that time of the month!" He hissed, just loud enough for snotty Lily Evans to turn around and give him a look. James sniggered.

"Oh, Peter. You crack me up!" James shot Peter a warning look. Lily turned back to listen to Dumbledore. Peter, James and I all knew that if anyone else found out about Remus' condition… It was too horrible to contemplate. No one would speak to him again, for fear of getting infected. People were so prejudiced in those days. But then again, not that much has changed.

Dumbledore seemed to be in an effusive mood that night, and things went on longer than usual. The sorting ceremony was uneventful; it was no great surprise that Regulus and Narcissa were put in Slytherin, along with Barty Crouch's firstborn. We didn't get anyone I knew, and only a redhead called Celia Macdonald, who turned puce enough for me to wonder if she was under a hex, caught my attention. I was starving by the time the food appeared, and we all tore in.

I don't remember ever having been so happy as I was then, surrounded by good friends and good cheer.

_The warmth in my belly fades, as a door scrapes open farther down the corridor, and suddenly I can see my breath clouding the air in front of me. My eyes flicker shut, as I wait to see what torment they will drag out of me tonight._

The sky was overcast, with the taste of autumn in the air, as I strutted around the back of the school for a sly smoke. As I ducked into a particularly thick mulberry bush, I was startled by the sound of a cough ahead of me. I stopped short, but could only make out a hunched shape in the shadows ahead of me.

"Is that all I get, then?" The shape stood up, and became Remus, smiling at me. "Just a stare after three months' separation?" I went forward willingly into his proffered hug, and was surprised by the force with which he held me.

"Remus. I've missed you so much!" I pulled away from him; my eyes fully adjusted to the shadows, and saw that he looked even more tired than usual.

"Have you, Sirius? I wonder…" Remus sat heavily, and I sprawled next to him, pulling out my pack of cigarettes and offering him one. "I wish you wouldn't do that." He looked at me resignedly and sighed.

"It's all part of my debonair charm!' I waggled my eyebrows at him suggestively. "Besides, birds love it!"

"Do they? I wouldn't know." He turned away from me, with a bitter little twist of his mouth, and sighed again.

"Come on mate," I popped my smoke between my teeth and put my arms around his shoulders, "its not the end of the world, being a you-know-what." He stiffened. "You'll find a chick that likes you no matter what. And I'll help you."

"I'm not so sure I want that, Sirius." He muttered as I rubbed his shoulders comfortingly. "See, I realised something this summer, when I was away from you." He turned to look at me, and watched as I flicked the rest of my cigarette away.

"What's that mate? Nothing's so bad you can't tell me!" Without warning his arm snaked around my neck and his mouth was on mine. It was horrifying, mortifying, although the kiss itself was not as bad as I would have expected. I wish I could go back and have the time over again, handle it differently. It hurts so much to remember the pain in his eyes as I started backwards, almost falling in my haste to get up.

"Remus, mate, look! I'm not that way inclined, mate, but it's fine that you are. I mean…" I backed out of the bush, trying not to look as if I was running away. Which was exactly what I was doing. "It's fine, really. I won't tell anyone. And we'll just pretend this never happened, okay."

I spun around to find Lucius Malfoy looking down his long nose at me, the 'Prefect' badge gleaming proudly on the lapel of his blazer.

"What's this, Black. A tryst in the bushes?" He smiled and leant to one side slightly, whilst still holding my gaze. "Lupin. Please come out of there immediately." Malfoy flicked back the edge of my robes to reveal the packet of cigarettes in my top pocket. He plucked them out between index and forefinger, and waved them in front of Remus and me. "Smoking, boys. Tut tut." Still he smiled at us, that half-uptwist of his lips more and more maddening with each passing second. "I would have thought that you would know better, Black."

"Lupin wasn't smoking, Malfoy. Just me." I did my best not to snarl at him.

"Oh." The lightest of breaths before he continued, "Then what, pray, was Mr Lupin doing in the bushes, Black? I would love to know." I stayed silent, clenching the fabric of my robes into my fists. I felt, rather than saw, Remus drop his head in shame beside me. Malfoy continued to stare at me, waiting for an answer. Eventually he sighed. "Well, I won't say that I'm not disappointed in you boys. But, as you are a friend of the family, Black, I think we can work this out between us, don't you?"

"What do you want, Malfoy?" I gritted my teeth, knowing that whatever he had in mind, it would not be pleasant.

"It seems that now I am a prefect, I'm in the position of needing a drudge. Or two. So lucky you, the two of you get the first chance to come and look after me!" Malfoy stroked one finger down the edge of my robes possessively.

"But you're only allowed drudges from your own house!" I stared at him in shock. The thought of having to wait on him hand and foot, make food for him and tidy his study appalled me.

"I think that, under the circumstances, it might be wise for you to keep quiet, Black!" A flash of annoyance lit up his eyes as he snatched his hand away from me. "Lupin!' He called over his shoulder as he walked away. "Be at my study at eight! And bring a new quill, if you possess such a thing."

"Oh Lord, what have we got ourselves in for?" I hissed to Remus, only to find that he was walking away in the opposite direction as quickly as he could, his shoulders hunched as if against the cold.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_My vision clears slowly, and once again I feel the dirt on the floor, the filth that streaks my once-white skin. When the Dark Lord comes, all those pious little muggle-lovers and mudbloods will know my pain. They will know what it is to rob someone of their wits, of their powers, and leave them incapable. The pain in my temples is excruciating, but I must concentrate. I must remember that once I was beautiful, and desirable._

Lucius in his study was a glorious sight. The fire threw golden and orange lights onto his hair, making the lush whiteness of it seem to dance with colour. He was sitting at his desk, seemingly engrossed in writing a letter, and it took him a moment to look up at me.

"Bellatrix! Why on earth did you knock?" The slight curve of his eyebrow betrayed his surprise. "I thought you were my drudge, come early."

"I wasn't sure if this was your study," I started a minute examination of the room, as he went back to his writing, "I didn't want to burst in on old McGonagall in her drawers." He laughed at that. I liked to hear him laugh, that warm, rich sound that seemed to be his alone. I wandered around the oak-panelled room, pausing to look over the darkening forest beneath us, the imperfect glass making the view warp and swim before my eyes. "It's dusty in here." I observed, crumpling some of the fine grey powder, watching it coat my white fingers.

"Mmm. Hence the drudge." Lucius stood, and stretched, the light from the fire picking out the hard planes of his face. He settled himself into an overstuffed tapestry armchair, and watched me as I finished my examination of the room.

"I do believe that your room is bigger than mine." He barked a laugh.

"Then I shall have to come and see for myself." He held out a hand to me, white and smooth, and I took it, letting him draw me onto his lap. For a time we nestled together, content, while he stoked my hair, his lips pressed to my forehead. Finally, he stirred. "Why don't you love me, Bellatrix?" His voice was low, almost wistful.

"I don't think we have it in us to love, either of us." I shifted in his lap, causing him to moan gently. "We aren't like them." I kissed his throat, felt the pulse run quicker under his pale skin. "Those riff-raff with their idle tongues and idle bodies." I shifted, placing one knee either side of him, my robes flaring around us. "We're better than them."

"We know what it is to hate." Lucius slid his hand down my hair, pulling the black length of it around his hand, forcing my head back so that he could kiss my throat hungrily. "To want…" He breathed against the skin of my chest, pulling my shirt open, pushing the fabric down over my white shoulders so that my robes and my shirt fell around my elbows.

We were interrupted by a knock on the door. Lucius looked at me and smiled. "Come!" I sat still and waited. The door was pushed open by a scared looking whelp of a boy, carrying a white feather. "Ah, Lupin. Bellatrix, this is one of my drudges." I quirked an eyebrow at the word 'drudges', but decided to question him about having more than one later.

"Hello." I glanced at him over my naked shoulder. The boy was of no consequence.

"Lupin, I was going to have you dust my room and do some writing for me, but now I have a better idea. Close the door." He captured my lips in a long, burning kiss. "I believe that women are not something that interests you," he gazed at Lupin over my shoulder. The boy gave no reply. "Well, I'm going to give you a lesson. Sit." He pointed to the desk chair he had recently vacated. I smiled down at him, delighted by the perversion of his plan. "You can watch, Lupin." His mouth seared mine once more.

Our passion burned long and fierce that night, and was all the more sweet for the gaze of the boy sitting behind us. When Lucius finally dismissed him, he fled, his cheeks wet with tears, leaving us to laugh in each other's arms.

_The memory twists, and spirals out of control. I feel as though I were wrenched from the study, pulled backward into darkness. They are here._

A church. Such a quaint and pointless waste of stone. A breath of sweet spring air stirred the hems of my invisibility cloak, as I sat and pondered the rabble of muggles and mudbloods in front of me. The groom's side of the church was full of dull looking men and women in suits, having boring conversations about accountancy and flowers. My sister's side was full of rowdy young wizards and witches, surrounding McGonagall and Dumbledore. The two old bores kept throwing around disapproving looks, but the younger ones ignored them. Eventually the organ music started and they all stood.

My sister Andromeda entered, looking bewitching in a simple white gown. She took Sirius' arm and he walked her down the aisle, looking as proud as if he were her father, not just her cousin. My father would have nothing to do with this sort of ceremony, of course. If she would have listened to sense and married Barty Crouch when he'd asked her, none of this horrible nightmare could have happened. My cheeks burned with mortification at the thought of my own sister disgracing the family.

Tonks, the idiot muggle bridegroom, came forward to meet her. He was just as bumbling and dull as could be. Trust Andromeda to choose the most stereotyped muggle possible. No dash and charm for her, nothing beautiful or wild. I thought with some satisfaction of my own husband, of the way he had held me against the wall and slapped me when I told him where I was going. He would pay for that later, my Rodolphus. Tonks shook Sirius' hand. Of all the family, only Sirius would sully himself by coming here publicly. I was the only other family member to attend, to witness my sister's degradation.

I stood as the ceremony ended, not wishing to be caught up in the crowd. I stepped outside into the fresh, sweet air, and something died inside me. I realised, perhaps for the first time, that my sister was now my mortal enemy, arrayed with the ranks of the stupid and impure. The mark on my arm burned me as I walked quickly away.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Everything in my head feels tangled, like the wool of a tapestry rotting and untangling itself on the wall of my family home. Sometimes I wish I could tear at it, lay it all out flat in one long, continuous line. But that way lies madness, and the triumph of the dementors over my psyche. I must concentrate._

The Gryffindor common room was awash with light and noise as I sat companionably, sipping pumpkin juice, with James. I was becoming increasingly aware of just how many pretty girls there were in our house. Just then a blonde girl dropped a roll of parchment at our feet, and I found myself standing and whisking it off the floor for her. I gave her a smile as I passed it back to her and was pleasantly surprised to see the way she blushed and dimpled in response. She carried on across the common room, smiling back at me once more as she ducked into the dormitory stairwell.

"I do believe that you're turning into a gentleman, Sirius." James laughed, clapping me on the shoulder hard enough to spill my drink. "You'd better watch that, or you'll be bringing the family name into disrepute!" I wiped my hands rather uselessly down my robes, trying to get rid of the pumpkin juice, but really not that bothered about it. I'd never been as fastidious about these things as my mother would have liked. Windswept and interesting was more my style.

"Ah, you're just jealous of my way with the ladies." Unfortunately, at that moment Lily Evans walked past. She snorted with laughter, giving me a pitying look, and carried on toward the fireplace. I felt my cheeks begin to burn. I hated being pitied.

"Jealous? Of you?" James chortled. "I just saw you in action! You've got nothing on me!" He sipped his own drink contentedly. A plan formed in my head.

"Sounds like a challenge, Potter!" I leant forward, speaking quickly and quietly.

"What does that mean?" James leant toward me in response. My eyes darted around the room, checking that no one was listening.

"Who is the prettiest girl in our year?" I asked, looking meaningfully at Lily.

"Your cousin, Andromeda." He answered promptly, and then looked puzzled at my grimace.

"Be serious, James. That's my favourite relation you're talking about!"

"So? She's a very nice looking relation!" James chuckled, taking a swig of his drink.

"You stay away from my cousin." I teased in return.

"Alright, if she means that much to you. Never knew you were kissing cousins." James ducked the book I threw at his head, smothering a laugh as it thumped a first year. "Well then, get to the point. What's this challenge all about?"

"Who's the best looking girl in our year, who also happens to be in our house?" I asked, trying to remain patient.

"Are we still playing this game?" He grinned at my sigh and looked around the room, taking a few moments before they rested where I expected them to. "Lily Evans." She was sitting on a leather footstool, laughing at a joke a second year had just told. She was pulling absent-mindedly at the top of one rumpled sock, her green eyes sparkling. It was one of those slow motion moments that happen far too infrequently in life, when you feel as though time is like treacle. It felt… fateful; although I little knew how important that moment was for James and me.

"Lily Evans." I realised that my voice sounded a little strangled, and quickly cleared my throat. "She's never thought much of either of us, I reckon."

"You're blind, Sirius." James wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "She's been hot for me since first year!"

"Right then, this should be no problem for you." I leant in closer, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Lily Evans is the challenge. Whoever kisses her first is the winner." James' eyes widened, but his cocky grin didn't fade.

"Define kiss," he said. I snorted.

"Well, if you don't know what kissing is, I'm not going to help you find out!" At that moment I was reminded uncomfortably of Remus, how his mouth had felt against mine only the day before. I brushed the memory aside and continued, "Mouth to mouth contact only, none of your kissing-your-grandma's-cheek malarkey! And she has to want to kiss you too."

"Piece of the proverbial, my friend." James sat back, shooting Lily a speculative look. "What's the stake?"

"Once round the Great Hall, starkers, for the loser?" I put my hand out, fairly confident of my powers.

"Done!" James shook my hand, just as Peter appeared through the portrait hole.

"What's up, chaps? Got a bet on?" Peter dropped plumply to the floor at our feet, drawing his knees up to his chest. For some reason he preferred to sit on the floor whenever he could.

"Nothing much, Peter." James smiled down at him. "Just Sirius planning to show his crown jewels off to all his pals."

"Don't listen to him, Peter. He's had too much pumpkin juice." I shot James a fond look across the table. Just then Lily got up and headed past us towards the girls' dormitories. "We'll tell you later." I whispered. Peter smiled happily, and chomped down some toffee. James and I watched Lily climb the lower stairs, her small hips swaying under her robes. This was going to be fun.

_The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as goose pimples rise all over my skin. The warm common room fades from my inner vision, to be replaced with a splitting pain in my head. I want to vomit, but my stomach is empty. My eyes close once more, and I am gone._

The walk through the dark and echoing halls of the school, usually such a pleasure for me, felt tiring and cold, especially in contrast to the warm common room and friendly company I had just left. I stood for five long minutes outside Malfoy's study, psyching myself up for whatever menial work he might expect me to do. Remus was still avoiding me, sitting as far away from me as possible in class, so I had no idea what Malfoy had made him do. Finally I steeled myself and knocked firmly on the oak door.

"Come." The voice was muffled by the door. I turned the handle and entered, unsurprised to find my cousin Bellatrix sitting comfortably in a leather armchair, her legs drawn up underneath her. She was the most beautiful and the most dangerous of all my cousins, and I had a sneaking affection for her. She had held my arm painfully behind my back for half an hour every day of my fifth summer, as part of a bizarre ceremony she called my 'Black Family Initiation'. I had compared notes with Andromeda, and found that she had done the same thing to her that spring; I think she just liked to feel us wriggle. She was also Malfoy's shadow, as he was so often hers. I used to think they were two halves of the same soul, before I realised that neither of them had one.

"Lucius." Bellatrix had fixed me with a cold, grey stare.

"Mmm-hmm." Malfoy was sitting at his desk, reading an ancient looking book. He didn't look up.

"Why is my cousin here?" Lucius looked up then, his brows knitted together in seeming contemplation.

"Oh yes, Black." He smiled at Bellatrix. He never seemed warm, except when he looked at her. "I forgot to tell you, darling. He's my other drudge." Bellatrix looked shocked.

"You're going to use my cousin as a drudge! I don't believe it!" She seemed genuinely outraged, at least as much as she ever got. A slight flush crept across her cheeks.

"I've no choice in the matter," Lucius drawled, turning back to his book. Her annoyance was clearly of little consequence to him. "I caught him smoking. Would you rather I turned him in to Dumbledore?" Bellatrix stayed silent, her mouth in a thin line. "At least he's drudging for me. Imagine if he had to polish that half-blood Bagman's boots for him." Bellatrix looked thoughtful for a moment, and then unfolded herself from the armchair.

"You're right, of course. She swept past me, through the open door. "I'd still rather not watch it." She closed the door behind her, and I heard my last hope rustle away down the corridor. I turned back to Malfoy, trying not to let my frustration show on my face, knowing it would go worse for me if he knew he could get to me. He ignored me.

I stood for half an hour, waiting for him to tell me what to do. Occasionally he would pause and tap a word with one long forefinger, or turn the page delicately, as the long minutes stretched. I was starting to get really angry, when eventually he spoke.

"Do you have clean hands, Black?" I started, surprised and confused by his question.

"What?" My voice was louder than I had expected. He sighed.

"Are your hands clean?" he asked. My forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"Yes."

"Let me see them." I shuffled forward, totally bemused by this conversation. I was expecting to sweep out his fire or dust shelves, not have a hygiene inspection. I held out my hands, palm side down, and he glanced at them. "Turn over." He looked at the other side. "You call that clean?" He fixed me with almost the same cold grey stare as my cousin had used on me earlier on. "See that you don't come to me in this state again. You can wash them in the basin over there."

I crossed the room, still none the wiser. Picking up the big jug from its place, I poured some water into the basin, wincing at the coldness as a little splashed my hand.

"Wash your face too, while you're at it." Begrudgingly I complied, trying not to gasp as the chilly water hit my skin, rinsing every hint of pumpkin juice from me. "Come here," he said as I dried myself on the towel beside the stand. I went back to him, glad to be next to the cosy fire that burnt in the grate. He gave me another assessing look, before pointing to a pearl handled brush that lay on the desk. "Brush my hair."

"What?" I almost laughed out loud, but restrained myself to a stifled snort.

"You heard me." His tone dropped a little, became more dangerous. "I want you to brush my hair."

"Why?" I asked impetuously. His eyes were like steel, and they drained all of the amusement out of me instantly.

"No more questions, Black." He looked as though he would have liked to rip my throat out. "Do as you're told, or Dumbledore and the rest of the school find out about your… bad habit. And that of Mr Lupin." I felt the anger bubble up inside me again, but held myself back. I promised myself that I would find some way to get my own back on the evil git.

Picking up the brush, I walked behind Malfoy. The temptation just to strangle him, as he settled back comfortably into his chair, was almost unbearable. Instead I lifted the pale length of his hair, untying the black ribbon that held it in a long braid down his back. His hair slid through my fingers as I untangled it, surprisingly heavy and silken. I started to brush it, snagging the bristles almost straight away. Malfoy hissed.

"Watch it!" I proceeded more carefully, kneeling and pulling the brush through the ends first, before standing to do the higher parts. From this angle it was difficult to tell that it was a man's hair I was brushing, especially since his hands holding his book were so fine and white.

I don't know how long I stood there, brushing that long, platinum hair, because I lost all sense of time. My annoyance drifted away from me, leaving me in a sort of trance. The fire glowed pleasantly, casting flickering shadows around the room. An intimate atmosphere descended, the only sound the gentle turning of the page. I felt almost drugged. Finally Malfoy stirred.

"That will do, Black. You can go."

I was glad when he didn't look at me again, letting me stumble out of the room without so much as a glance. My mouth was dry and my cheeks burning. I had never felt more ashamed in my life. Pulling my robes closed around me to hide the inconceivable evidence of my arousal, I walked unsteadily back toward our common room.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N – **Linual**, thank you so much for the review. Its good to know that someone is enjoying the story! _

Chapter 5

_I find myself sitting on the edge of the narrow pallet that constitutes my bed. I'm staring down at the floor, my legs dangling. The thinness of them shocks me once more. My legs are fine and long, shapely, not these skeletal sticks that protrude from the ragged hem of my robes. I notice that there has been an elaborate pattern drawn all over the floor, marks made in the dirt. I wonder how they got there, but then realise that I must have made them in my mania. It is becoming harder and harder to remember who and what I am. _

It seemed an age since I last flew, and as I took off as fast as I could on my Silver Arrow, I had to resist the urge to whoop in joy. Even for one like me, whose father put her on a broomstick before she could walk, the sensation of freedom was astonishing. I relished the sensation of my robes whipping the air behind me, the green velvet snapping with the force of my flight. Confidently I threw my broomstick into a succession of difficult spins and turns, the Quidditch pitch rolling crazily beneath me. Selma Irby, one of the other Chasers, was hovering over the pitch, unaware of my position above her. The opportunity was too good to miss, and I swept silently down, grabbing her robes unexpectedly and pulling her with me in the dive. She screamed as I steered her, hurtling toward the soft green turf. At the last moment I neatly drew us both up short, earning a gasp of relief from Selma and our watching housemates. Selma pulled her robes from my fingers very huffily, and stalked off to stand behind Lucius, where the rest of the team had gathered. I followed, my smirk hidden behind one leather-gloved hand. Lucius gave me a look of mock disapproval before turning to the waiting hopefuls.

"We are seeking only the best. As you know, the Slytherin team welcomes only the most skilful, the strongest and the most ruthless players." Selma gave me a sneering look. I smiled back sweetly. "Let me introduce our team. Connor Burge, keeper. Saved 400 points last year alone." The crowd cheered happily for each member of the team. "Chasers Selma Irby, Ernan Elric, and, of course, Bellatrix Black. And you all know me. Lucius Malfoy, Seeker." They all roared for him, naturally. Lucius was the best Seeker that our house had seen for over a century, and had become the team's youngest Captain when he had been chosen the previous year. "We will be victorious. We will beat that great idiot Bagman. We will bring back the Quidditch Cup!"

The assembled throng cheered wildly. Lucius basked a little in their approbation, and then sent them all to sit outside the stands, allowing the potentials to enter in pairs. He had told me that he suspected that spies from the other teams would try to learn our strategy before the season began, and he was taking every precaution to prevent this.

The first pair entered. I watched them walk across the pitch from my position hovering fifteen feet above the grass. They were both most unprepossessing looking, the smaller of the two constantly brushing his black hair out of his eyes. Lucius looked surprised, and I swooped a little lower to hear what he said to them. He sent the bigger boy up on his broom, but kept the smaller on the ground.

"Severus. What are you doing here?" Lucius' tone was low, but not dangerous. I recognized the boy then – Snape – a son of one of the old families. His parents were dead, as I remembered it; their former estate bordered our own.

"I want to play. I'm good on a broomstick, Lucius – if you would just let me try…" The boy set his mouth stubbornly.

"Severus, we are looking for Beaters today." Lucius put a hand on Snape's shoulder, either to comfort or restrain him - I couldn't see his face. "You are too small." The younger boy's face fell, and he turned to walk away, dragging his broom behind him. Lucius called him back. "There are other ways you can help us. Help me."

"Anything you want, Lucius." I could see Snape struggling to hide his disappointment, and latch on to any small sign of favour from Lucius. Popularity and safety were almost guaranteed to those who walked in his shadow.

"There are certain people… who need to be watched." Lucius dropped his voice even lower, so that I could hardly hear his next words. "I trust you. Come to my study after practice and we will talk." Severus nodded, his heart seemingly a little lighter, and trailed off to sit in the stands and watch the try-outs enviously.

Unfortunately, there was little talent to be seen that afternoon, and I was beginning to think longingly of my own fire and a warm butterbeer by the time the last potentials entered the arena. I saw immediately that this pair was different. They threw a Quaffle between themselves with practiced ease, laughing and bantering as they walked toward Lucius.

I found myself unable to stop staring at them. They were both tall, broad in the chest and narrow at the waist. Brown hair curled around their faces in a most becoming manner. As they approached, I realised that they were speaking French. It seemed impossible that I should have missed two such perfect specimens of manhood, unless they were new students. But they were much too old to be first years. I had never heard of students transferring to a different school before. How lucky that they turned out to be the first.

"'Ello." The slightly taller of the two spoke. I could see Lucius drawing himself up to his full height. The top of his head did not quite reach the brown-haired boys' chins. This was going to be interesting. "I am Rodolphus Lestrange, and zis is my brother Rabastan. We are from Beauxbatons, where we played Quidditch for ze Chatroux 'ouse."

"Very well." Lucius sounded impatient at the relaxed tone of the French boy. "What years are you in?"

"Seventh. My brother, he is in ze Fifth." Rodolphus glanced at Rabastan, and a look full of secret meaning seemed to pass between them. Lucius merely nodded, gesturing them to get onto their brooms and passing them a bat each. As they took off, Rabastan winked at me. I merely raised an eyebrow in return. Lucius released the Bludgers for the umpteenth time that afternoon, and we all started to run through some practice manoeuvres.

The Lestrange brothers moved with a fluid grace, shouting and laughing to each other as they knocked Bludgers flying in all directions. The difference between themselves and the other, hopeless, potentials was obvious immediately. Lucius let us play for some time, however, seemingly caught up in some thought process of his own. At one point a Bludger was bare feet away from me, when Rodolphus swooped in close enough to touch and struck it away from me. I could smell the sheen of sweat on his skin, but before I could acknowledge him, he was away again.

Eventually Lucius called us all down.

"Well done, everyone. That is enough for today." He turned his unreadable steel gaze onto the brothers. "The team selections will be on the notice board in the common room by this evening." The Lestranges shrugged and walked away.

"I know you are going to select them, my darling." I said to Lucius in an undertone. He took my broomstick and carried it for me toward the female changing room. I noticed Selma's face contort with jealousy. How interesting. "I was wrong, you know." I brushed a stray hair out of his eyes before taking back my broom at the changing room door. "I think I can fall in love. I think I already have." Leaving his startled gaze behind me, I walked into the shadows.

_The compulsion to weep comes over me, and I wish vehemently that I could have just one moment with my husband before we are both lost forever. It takes me a moment to realise that the sensation of grief has been brought on by the return of our guards, but by then I am already closing my eyes._

"BELLATRIX BLACK!" A woman's voice roared at me from down the corridor. I dropped the first year I had been holding against the wall, giving him a warning look as I let him go. He rubbed his shoulder and looked at me, terrified. I am sure that he had never regretted anything so much in his life, up until that moment, as bumping into me and not apologising.

"Keep quiet, toad, if you value your life." I narrowed my eyes at him, before turning meekly to face Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Black, kindly explain yourself!" The bony spinster seemed as angry as I had ever seen her. Her eyes bulged. She looked hideous. "Just what, exactly, were you doing holding a child against the wall like that?"

"He was running in the corridor holding his wand, Professor," I lied smoothly.

"Is this true, Crabbit?" The boy looked too petrified to move. He didn't answer, and McGonagall turned her attention back to me.

"Still, there is no excuse for such behaviour. Using physical methods…" She beckoned me to follow her. "We'll have to see the Headmaster about this. I shouldn't be surprised," she rounded on me again, "if he removed you from the position of Prefect! Ever-chew Toffee!" She spoke the password to the Headmaster's study, and the great spiral stairs appeared. As McGonagall moaned on about responsibility, I felt a lead weight settle in my stomach. If my father found out that I had been stripped of my position… I didn't like to think of the consequences.

We entered the study, Dumbledore's red and gold parrot looking at us as if it knew exactly what was going on. McGonagall started ranting about my behaviour, while Dumbledore peered at me in what I'm sure he considered a kindly but stern way. He looked constipated to me. I sat when told to and looked at the floor.

"Well, Miss Black, this is a difficult situation," the Headmaster began. I tried to look as contrite as possible. "Could you leave us, Minerva? I would like to talk privately to Miss Black about this." McGonagall nodded and spun on her heel, giving me a filthy look as she passed.

"Miss Black, as I'm sure you are aware, there is no excuse for using violence when disciplining younger members of this school." He laid his glasses down on the desk in front of him. "I am aware, however, of your… extenuating circumstances." I glanced at him, shock flooding my mind, but had to look away quickly. I knew what he was going to say, but I didn't want to hear it. "I understand that your mother was committed to a private institution over the summer, and that this is not the first time that your father has been forced to do so."

Memories asserted themselves over my mind's eye, no matter how much I bid them keep away. Black hair, so like my own. Walking toward her, nearly slipping in the wetness on the floor. My mother singing, a song she had sung to all of us, to all the sisters, when we were too small to talk. Her hand, holding the razor, slicing exquisite slivers of skin from her ivory flesh, rocking and humming as though it didn't hurt her at all. The blood running down her legs and pooling, black as treacle, on the floor.

"…because of the difficulties at home, I am willing to give you another chance." Dumbledore was gazing at me sternly. Hot needles were pricking my eyes. I would not cry, I refused to cry in front of him. "But be aware that any other incident will force me to reverse my position." I stood suddenly, surprising him. Desperately trying to hold myself together, I half-ran to the door of his study.

He caught me again, just as I was turning the door handle. He moved with surprising agility, considering his age. I tried to keep my head down, but he tipped up my chin so that he could look into my face.

"It is not a weakness to cry when you have reason to, Bellatrix." I could feel the tears start to run down my cheeks. I hated him for seeing them. "You would do well to let others take the burden, from time to time. We are none of us alone in this world." He let me go and I escaped as swiftly as possible, smothering the racking sobs that threatened to tell the world of my pain.

By the time I stepped back into the main school, my back was as straight and my face as composed as ever.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N – This may be my last update for a few weeks – I'm going home for Christmas tomorrow, so I won't have my own computer, then when I get back I've got three assignments to hand in. I hope that everyone has a lovely Christmas and gets everything they want!_

_PS – in the spirit of Christmas, how about a review?_

**Chapter 6**

_I have been trying to count the bricks in the walls of my prison cell. I find that it is easier to keep focussed on the present if my mind is occupied with something banal. It is monotonous, but that is the point. If I can continue to resist the Dementors, then I can remain myself._

I took my chance a couple of days later to talk to the only person I felt I could. I had been wandering the corridors for a few hours that Sunday morning. My chance to try for the Chaser position was later that afternoon, and by rights I should have been practicing, but I was finding it difficult to settle to anything since the night in Malfoy's study. The thought that I had to go back to him again that evening was making me sick to my stomach.

Quite by chance I came across Andromeda in the Entrance Hall, deep in conversation as usual with her best friend Clarity Jakes. The two Ravenclaws looked ready to acknowledge me quickly then get on with their tête-à-tête, Andromeda smiling and waving, and Clarity merely nodding. To their obvious surprise I wandered over to them, dragging my feet unwillingly but knowing that my favourite cousin was really the only one I could trust with my secrets.

Andromeda looked like someone had taken a box of crayons to our usually monochrome family colouring. Her hair looked nearly black, but on closer inspection it was actually a deep, rich coffee colour. She had, as usual, tied it back in a high bun, like a ballet dancer's, to keep it out of the way. On anyone else it would have looked severe, or as if she were trying to imitate McGonagall, but while Andromeda often had a serious look in her pale blue eyes, she generally had a friendly upturn to the corner of her mouth that made her seem welcoming. The extreme pallor of our family's skin had been given a pleasant pink flush across her cheeks, and she was the only one of her sisters that ever blushed. She was also the only one that could be described as pretty rather than beautiful. I loved her best of all my family, and the many happy days we had spent playing together as children gave us both an openness with one another that I would never dare to share with anyone else.

"Cousin dearest! I was wondering when you were going to drag yourself away from your own house to say hello to us poor Ravenclaws…" Andromeda and I often teased each other, knowing full well that whether we talked every day or once a year made not the slightest bit of difference to our fondness for each other.

"Hello Sirius, its nice to see you." Clarity greeted me in her thick Irish accent and smiled at me warily. I often felt that she was a bit jealous of me for being related to Andromeda. The two girls had been inseparable since first year, but even that had not changed the bond between my cousin and myself. I made Clarity feel insecure, through no fault of my own. And here I was, about to take Andromeda off again.

"'Lo, Clarity. Andromeda, could I talk to you?" Andromeda nodded instantly and smiled apologetically at Clarity.

"Well, don't mind me." Clarity shook her head, copper curls bouncing as she pushed off the wall and headed for the Great Hall. "I'll see you in the Common Room in a bit, eh, Meda?" Andromeda gave her a half-wave, and then drew me away down a deserted adjacent corridor. We ducked into an empty classroom and settled ourselves on stools.

"What is it, Sirius? You look so stern!" Andromeda sounded so worried that I had to chuckle a little, just to let her know it wasn't as bad as all that. It made me feel a little better too.

"It's alright, cuz, I'm not going to tell you I've got the plague or anything." She smiled, but her eyes were still concerned. "I wanted to talk to you… well, it's not really about me…" I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I hadn't slept properly the last few nights.

"Well, what is it? It can't hurt to tell me." She rested her hand on my knee, warm and comforting through my robes.

"It's about Remus, really." I glanced at her, my eyes finding the edge of the desk again quickly. She waited for me to go on. "Oh, hell, Andromeda, he's a queer!" I grated, getting up and starting to pace quickly the small space between the desks.

"Sirius." Andromeda was looking at me warningly. "You know I don't like to hear that kind of thing. There's no place for that kind of prejudice if we want to have a fair world." She had decided over the summer that she was a feminist, and had been reading all sorts of Muggle literature. Just one other reason for her not to fit in with the rest of the Black dynasty.

"Well he is!" She turned away from me, her lips pursed in disapproval. I flopped back onto the stool next to her. "I'm sorry, cuz, I didn't mean to be 'prejudiced'."

"You know how I feel." She turned her attention back to my problem. "What makes you think that he's a… homosexual?" I was again finding the edge of the desk terribly interesting.

"He…" I felt myself grimace. "…kissed me." She didn't laugh as I half expected her to, but started to twist her skirt between her fingers as she usually did when she was thinking.

"Oh." She was biting her lip, her eyes distant, when I looked up at her.

"You don't sound very surprised." She swung her pale blue eyes back to me.

"Hmm?" She shook herself. "Well, no, it's not really a big surprise. If he is homosexual then he's most likely to turn his affections to one of his closest friends, someone he feels he can trust. It's the most logical next step." She smiled distractedly and brushed a stray lock of black hair behind my ear. "It's not just because you're such a catch, in case that's what you're thinking!"

"I might have just lost one of my best friends, I could do with keeping my ego, thanks!" I joked weakly. She didn't look amused.

"What did you say to him?" She asked, annoyance creeping in to her tone.

"What? Nothing!" She was glaring at me sceptically, as if I'd have told him to drop dead or something. "I just told him I wasn't that way inclined, but I wouldn't tell anyone about it!"

"Well, OK then." She seemed mollified. "I'm just worried about what he must be going through right now." Her eyes took on that distant look again.

"What's this big concern for Remus all about? You've hardly ever spoken to him!" I had been hoping for a bit more sympathy myself, but it was looking less than likely. She tended to get an idea in her head and stick to it stubbornly until she had sorted out whatever was bothering her about it.

"Yes I have. Remember, I tutor him in Defence Against the Dark Arts." Of course, all of our family were well versed in that area. I had forgotten about Dumbledore's arrangement for the two of them. I realised she had coloured slightly. "He persuaded me to take Muggle Studies this year. It's really a very interesting area." A quick suspicion darted into my head.

"You've got a thing for him!" I almost laughed at her. "That's why you've been reading all that feminist rubbish all summer. You wanted to impress him!"

"Shush! It is not rubbish!" She looked terribly flustered. 'OK, so maybe I do like him. But it's all academic now, if what you say is true."

"Of course it's true! But it doesn't matter." I pulled myself together, trying not to grin at her too widely. It was all going to be fine. All I had to do was get the two of them together and Remus would see that girls were better for that sort of thing. I felt as though a great weight had been lifted off my chest. I was so relieved that I totally forgot about Malfoy. "Maybe it's just a phase, or he made a mistake."

"I don't think so…" Andromeda started doubtfully, but I carried on regardless.

"Don't worry, cuz, I'm sure he feels something for you, too. He's always talking about you." I lied, making nefarious plans in my head. He never talked about her, but I was sure that would change.

"Is he?" I saw a tiny flame of hope rekindle itself in her eyes. I did my best to fan it back to life.

"Oh yeah. All the time. When's your next tutorial?" I could have done a little dance at the prospect of getting Remus back as a proper friend.

"Thursday." She got up slowly, still deep in thought.

"Fine, then. Just make sure you look ravishing." I headed for the door, still making devious plans.

_I had forgotten where this memory led, who was waiting for me at the end of my awkward but reassuring talk with Andromeda. I try desperately to change the memory, to count bricks, to think of something, anything else instead, but it is too late, they are already outside my cell._

I was practically whistling as I strode to the door of the classroom. Unfortunately something unpleasant was waiting on the other side of it. A dark haired boy in patched robes sprawled onto the floor when I pulled the door open. Someone had been listening to us, and as I grabbed his elbow to stop him escaping, I recognized the frightened face behind the curtain of black hair. "Snape!" I spat in surprise. I had never spoken to the quiet Slytherin boy before, and could think of no reason he'd want to eavesdrop on me. I pulled him upright and slammed him against the wall, his light frame no trouble to lift and push around.

"I'm s-s-sorry!" He gasped, trying to wriggle out from under my fist, and wincing in pain as I pushed it harder into his chest, his faded robes bunched in my hand. He had always been one of those kids you don't really notice; he did his work quietly, always knew the answers when asked in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts, but never put his hand up in class. He was small for his age, and skinny: I must have been double his weight. His robes and his books were always second hand. I'd always felt a bit sorry for him.

"What do you think you were doing, listening in on us?" I felt Andromeda's hand on my shoulder, but shrugged it off. The thought of everything he might have heard made me see red. I bared my teeth, staring into his hook-nosed face. I must have looked a terrible sight, so much bigger than him and so angry.

"Nothing! I swear! I was tying my shoe!" He wriggled again, and I looked down to see that one of his battered shoes was, indeed, untied.

"Let him go, Sirius. That's enough." Andromeda said quietly behind me, and grudgingly I let Snape go, letting him slide down the wall until he was on his own feet again. He grasped at his throat, coughing, and pushed the hair out of his eyes. As quickly as he could, he limped out of the classroom.

"Queer." I swear I heard him mutter at me as he left, but when I started after him again he ran, and Andromeda held me back.

Later, that afternoon, I missed out on the Chaser position, my mind too preoccupied to concentrate properly on the game. James gave me a consolatory punch on the shoulder as he swept off with the rest of the Gryffindor team to their changing room. I thought I saw Remus in the stands, but by the time I got there he was gone.


End file.
